Everything in Her Precinct
by N3GatorFan
Summary: Lt. Joanna Reece has always prided herself in knowing everything that happens in her precinct. One day, she learns that she may not know as much as she thought…especially about one particular member of the OCME. Set a year and a half after 1x22.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**_ : The concept, canon, and canon characters belong to _Forever_ creator Matt Miller and Warner Bros. Studios. All other characters, the plot for the story, and Henry's flashbacks are my own creation. I have posted my story here, and I don't profit from it. (Translation: I don't own _Forever_ , but if I did…)

 **Author's Note** : A special thanks goes out to Be3, who requested this story.

For this short, multi-chapter story, I used the same head canon that I have for most of my other stories set after 1x22. I developed it long before Matt's two Twitter question-and-answer sessions and any other questions that he had answered. I hope that everyone will enjoy it.

There are general references for every episode.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"Joanie!"

Lt. Joanna Reece looked up from the case file that she was reviewing and closed it. There was only one person on Earth who would have the audacity to call her by that dreaded nickname and who would live to tell about it.

"Mom." Joanna rose from her chair, walked around her desk, and embraced her mother. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"The airline offered a cheaper seat on an earlier date, so I decided to take it. Besides, at this time of year, the airports can become crowded when JFK and LaGuardia are snowed in. I didn't want to spend the holidays in a terminal instead of with you." The woman closed the door behind her once Joanna released her.

Joanna smiled. Leave it to Tricia Reece to find the best deal on anything—even when it was intangible.

"How's Paul?" Her heart ached with a longing to call her step-father by the title that she had given another man years ago. That man had died before she could begin to remember him, and she had regarded Paul Reece as her father ever since her mother had met him.

The older woman regally walked over to one of the chairs and leaned on it. "He's looking forward to coming here the day after tomorrow, weather-permitting. If he can't, he'll make the first available flight. He's also bringing you something, but he won't tell me what it is."

Joanna rolled her eyes and shook her head. She was _way_ too old for gifts. Paul, however, tended to be a doter as he felt that he had missed out on the first nine years of her life.

"How are his environmental studies going?" She sensed that one of them had kept him from arriving in New York with her mother.

"He's still taking on the government. You should have heard him last week at the city commission meeting. He berated the company officials who presented the latest environmental impact study. If their looks could kill..."

Joanna nodded. The normally genial man had suddenly become much more passionate during the meeting.

"Anyway, the latest one's deadline is tomorrow, and he is finishing up the reports to give to the state Department of Transportation." Tricia cocked her head and looked her daughter in the eye. "But, I guess that you already knew that."

Joanna chuckled. "I _always_ know what goes on in my family."

Tricia smiled. "And I bet that you think that way about your precinct too."

The lieutenant stared at her mother in surprise and then nodded. She prided herself on knowing everything that was happening within the 11th Precinct. Not a single detail about her officers and about the two members of the OCME who regularly worked with them escaped her notice.

Tricia's stomach grumbled, and Joanna could see that her mother's brief time in New York's frigid temperatures had resulted in a slight shiver that continued in spite of the building's heat.

"How about we get some lunch and some coffee?" Joanna stepped around her desk and removed her coat. "I know this great place around the corner."

Tricia straightened her posture. "If you're talking about McSorley's, I'm interested. I want to see why you like it so much."

Joanna smiled as she slipped her arms through her sleeves. Aside from the evening drinks, McSorley's lunch menu was one reason that the bar was so popular among both the NYPD and the OCME.

As the two women walked through the door and toward the bullpen, Joanna listened her mother talk about her flight. Since her and Paul's move to Atlanta years ago, time with them had become rare. Sometimes her mother's job as a high school English teacher or Paul's profession as an environmental engineer had kept them apart. At other times, Joanna's work load had forced them to reschedule visits. Occasionally, New York's snowfalls had buried any chance of a family reunion. This time, almost everything came together perfectly. Now, if only Paul could find an earlier flight, everything would be perfect.

In some ways, Joanna wished that they would move back to New York. Both of them were in their seventies. They were strong now, but, in a few more years, they would likely need her help when the effects of old age would begin to overtake them. Yet, they were proud individuals, and Joanna could only hope that they would ask for her assistance when the time came.

The bustle of the bullpen greeted them. Most of the detectives sat at their desks, filling out reports or looking at something on their computers. Several unis wove their way past the detectives. At his desk, Detective Mike Hanson argued with an uncooperative human resources officer on the phone.

A British lilt drifting into the room caught Joanna's attention. She looked at the source and saw Dr. Henry Morgan walk into the area with Detective Jo Martinez. A slight amount of moisture on their coats and hair, Jo's hat, and Henry's maroon scarf signaled that the snow had just returned.

Joanna focused on them. They had just returned from questioning Darryl Spencer's wife about his suspicious death which Henry had declared to be a murder and Darryl's recent travels to Miami. Based on Henry and Jo's conversation, they had discovered something significant during the interview.

"Although I don't appreciate Lucas' comparison of the ulcers caused by one type of _Vibrio vulnificus_ infection to a special effect in one of his horror films, he isn't that far off. The bacteria—"

Jo stepped behind her desk, pulled off her jacket and hat, and stared at him. "Don't tell me how you know this."

"If you recall, I told you once before that I've had a bad case of gastroenteritis apparently caused by the bacteria when I had eaten some oysters and gin years ago." He then mouthed, "A long time ago." He glanced down before giving her a lopsided smile. "Gratefully, though, I've never experienced septicemia from it, and I have no intention to. From what I've seen in people who had suffered from chronic liver disease and other disorders that suppress the body's natural immunity, however—"

Joanna shook her head. For as long as she knew Henry, there was always some strange comment coming from him. She had learned years ago not to ask questions about them.

She, however, needed to file his latest ones under the category of "normal". Henry had a sophisticated palette when it came to food, and it shouldn't be a surprise if he had become ill from a bad dish once in a while. As for his observations, he had likely seen a case or two when he was a practicing doctor.

Joanna took another step toward the hallway. She expected her mother to join her, but the woman was no longer by her side.

She looked over at the other woman. Tricia was rooted to her spot, seemingly lost in thought. To Joanna's relief, she pulled out of them and quickly joined her daughter.

They walked toward Henry and Jo, who were now good-naturedly teasing each other. Joanna started to ask her mother what happened—

Tricia stopped in front of Henry. "Dr. Morgan?!"

At the sound of his name, Henry jerked his head toward her. For a second, he studied the fearless woman. Then, he suddenly turned pale, and he looked as though he wanted to flee the country.

Joanna resisted the temptation to react. She had _never_ seen the usually unflappable medical examiner act this way before. What was it about her mother that terrified him? She wouldn't hurt a fly.

"It's me, Patricia Stanford. I used to live down the hall from you in the apartment complex at 69th and 2nd in the 1950s. Abe and I were classmates at PS 6."

Joanna stared at her mother in disbelief. According to Henry's file and his numerous arrest records, he was born in 1979. What made her mother think that Henry was much older than that?

Then again, Abe was a rare name these days, and the only person whom Joanna knew with that name was Henry's roommate. She didn't know much about how Henry and Abe knew each other, but neither of the men had ever mentioned that they were related. Why, then, was her mother talking about Abe as though he was Henry's son?

The younger Reece inhaled. Clearly, there was a logical explanation for this. Her mother had obviously mistaken Henry for someone else—like Abe's real father. Hopefully, nothing was wrong with her, and she didn't need her daughter's care after today.

To calm her nerves, Joanna looked at Jo and Henry. Jo's eyes were wide, and her mouth was open. Henry remained panicked, and he looked as though he was trying to figure out what to say.

Henry looked over Tricia's shoulder and at his unofficial superior. A beat later, he nervously turned his attention back to Jo. Jo closed her mouth, turned to him, and returned his nervous look with a worried one of her own.

Joanna wished that she knew what conversation they were having with just their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed important.

Henry leaned toward them and threw his hand up. "Listen, I can't talk about this now." He lowered his arm, inhaled, and looked at the women as he straightened himself and placed his hands behind his back. "I, however, would like to invite you both to dinner at my place tonight. I promise that I will explain everything then."

For once, something sounded reasonable. Joanna finally found her voice. "What time do you want us there?"

"About seven o'clock. I believe that you know my address."

He reached into a pocket in his three-piece suit and pulled out his pocket watch. He briefly opened it to glance at the time. As he slipped the timepiece back into his pocket, he looked over at Joanna and then at Jo. "I really need to return to work. I will see you later."

His eyes lingered on Jo—almost as though he was seeking her encouragement. Her eyes offered it to him, and she mouthed, "Good luck."

They gazed at each other for a moment longer. When they broke off their gaze, he pivoted toward the hallway and headed toward the elevators.

Joanna's eyes darted from a disappearing Henry to a standing Jo who was watching him leave. Jo crossed her arms over her chest in an effort to comfort herself. She bit her lower lip, almost as though she was trying to prevent tears from flowing.

The superior wanted to step over to Jo and ask her what was wrong. Jo had been worried about Henry several times before, but not like this. Why was she concerned about their dinner plans, and why would she wish him luck?

Mike's presence and movement toward Jo stopped Joanna from walking over to her subordinate. Jo tended to keep her emotions to herself, and she would refuse to talk to the older woman. Even if Jo did share her feelings, she would never betray Henry's trust.

A sinking feeling grew in the pit of the lieutenant's stomach. She thought that she knew everything in her precinct—or in her family. What was she missing here?

Joanna looked back at her mother. She was simultaneously puzzled and lost in thought.

"Mom?"

The older woman snapped herself out of her thoughts and looked at her daughter—just like Henry usually did during a case.

"I'm sorry. I was lost in thought." She shifted her weight. "Do you still want to go to lunch?"

 _Lunch. Right. I almost forgot about that_. "Yeah, I do."

As they walked toward the elevators, Tricia looked at her daughter. "What did Dr. Morgan mean by 'you know my address'?"

Joanna groaned. After this, there was no way that she could explain Henry's tendency to sleepwalk while naked to her mother—not without something much stronger than coffee. It was a good thing that McSorley's didn't serve just sodas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Passerby, thank you for your comment. I did notice that at one point. I, however, do have an idea for a story which reconciles reality with the show.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Joanna pulled up to a spot about three blocks from the antiques shop that Henry and Abe called home and pulled into it. She shifted the gear into park, undid her seat belt, and opened the door. As she got out, she smiled. With the exception of going to lunch, her mother's visit had gone quite well.

Her smile faded as she thought about the reason for her visit to this part of New York. It was supposed to be a simple dinner with one of her unofficial subordinates. Why did Henry and Jo feel as though this dinner was necessary?

Joanna groaned as she walked around the car and onto the sidewalk. Truth be told, today wasn't the first time that his behavior was odd. There were at least several other times, especially within the first year that Henry had worked with them, in which he had acted stranger than normal for him. He had been stalked once, and he had initially refused to tell her, Jo, and Mike that he suspected that his hunting knife was used as a murder weapon. A few months later, he broke into a warehouse owned by Isaac Monroe. Then, Henry was oddly affected by the investigation into the disappearance of Abe's mother. Within days of that case's closure, Henry was so focused on finding a missing _pugio_ that he had tried everything that he could think of to sabotage the investigation. Lately, there were a couple of cases in which he had temporarily withdrawn himself from the investigation until Jo or Abe had a talk with him.

In most of those instances, Henry's actions during the cases would be considered illegal. During the investigation of Blair Dryden's murder and the missing _pugio_ , Joanna had overheard Jo mutter something about arresting him for stealing it out of the evidence room. At the time, Joanna had been willing to overlook the behavior as she had hoped that things would work themselves out.

Now, it seemed as though it wasn't the best idea at the time. Were they an indication that Henry wasn't as trustworthy as he appeared? Was she so pleased with the results that he gave them that she was willing to condone his immoral behavior?

Honestly, she wanted to believe that Henry was a good man who reacted in a normal manner when confronted with pain and grief. In spite of his eccentricities, he treated everyone around him with a kind of respect that she saw only in period pieces on TV. He was almost always honest with people, sometimes in a way that reminded her of Simon Cowell, and he could be charming when he wanted to be. Everyone in the precinct treated him as though he was one of them. He and Mike were becoming good friends in spite of their differences. He thought of Jo as a very close friend, and Joanna suspected that a few hints of his romantic interest in her were beginning to manifest themselves lately. His nature was why she couldn't reconcile her beliefs about the man with his actions.

To distract herself from her swirling thoughts, she peered down at the sidewalk. The incongruous sight of tennis shoes with Tricia's dress pants greeted her.

Joanna looked at her mother's face. "I thought that you didn't own tennis shoes."

Tricia huffed mockingly at her. "I'm not crazy enough to wear high heels on icy sidewalks. I could fall and break my hip."

Joanna nodded as a pang of hurt struck her. The older woman didn't need to remind her daughter of her age.

Tricia shook her head and smiled. "I still can't believe that I saw Dr. Morgan again today. He looks _exactly_ the same way that he did back when I was a child."

The lieutenant stared at her walking companion. Her mother still believed that Henry was alive in the 1950s. "Your Dr. Morgan would be in his nineties or 100, gray-haired, and wrinkled by now. That is, if he's still alive."

"Joanna." The woman's firm voice forced Joanna to stop. "He's the same man."

Joanna studied Tricia. There must be a reason why her mother was so persistent in her belief. As far as she knew, her mother's insistence that Henry and the Dr. Morgan she knew were the same wasn't age-related. Maybe Henry could give her some answers when they arrived at his place.

Looking back now, though, Henry didn't deny her claim. Instead, it was almost as though he knew exactly who she was before she had even said her name.

Joanna decided to humor the woman. "What was your Dr. Morgan like?"

They resumed walking. "He wasn't skittish; that's for sure. He was more like he was around the female detective whom we saw him talking to earlier today. I don't know what had happened in his life to change him like that."

Joanna chuckled. "Like Henry was around Jo?"

She quickly sobered. Henry's nervousness was the one thing that they could agree on at the moment.

"That was Jo? The one you hope would succeed you when you either are promoted or decide to retire?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"From what I could tell, I can see why. She reminds me a bit of you."

Joanna stared at her mother. She didn't see any similarities between them.

Before Joanna could say anything, her mother quickly returned to her thoughts and to Joanna's question. "Dr. Morgan was always a kind and generous man. Busy too. He and Mrs. Morgan worked in the hospital's emergency department. Everyone came to them for any type of medical issue, and he always treated them. The year before they left, I overheard Momma tell Poppa that the medical community had lost a fine practitioner when Dr. Morgan decided to quit medicine. Of course, he never did turn away anyone who needed his help even then."

Joanna smiled. _That sounds familiar_.

She quickly sobered. Innocent people generally tended to stay put. "Why did they leave?"

Tricia sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. They left without any warning. I've always thought that it had something to do with Abe."

"Abe?"

Out of the corner of Joanna's eye, she could see her mother nod. "Abe was the only kid in school with a tattoo on his right forearm. When we were six, a couple of boys teased him about it. Naturally, he was upset about it, and he was even more upset when he learned that he was adopted. He ran away from home and made it as far as our apartment. Momma saw him, brought him in, and told him that his adoptive parents loved him just like he was their own. Gratefully, Abe calmed down, and he walked back to his apartment. Afterwards, every time someone commented on his tattoo, he would proudly tell them that his parents found him in a liberated concentration camp in Germany when he was a baby and that they adopted him then."

"I don't see how—"

Tricia looked at her. "Back then, some people, even here in America, would threaten anyone of Jewish descent with harm, to say the least. Abe's tattoo and his stated past were signs of his ethnicity. When the Morgans left, I thought that someone had threatened Abe and that Dr. and Mrs. Morgan felt they needed to leave for Abe's sake."

Joanna took in her mother's words.

The other woman smiled. "I wish that you could have known the Morgans then. They were great people, and I think that you would have liked them. And their apartment always had the best sounds and smells. On almost any given day, you could smell the most mouthwatering dishes when walking past their front door. And the music! On most days, you could hear classical music or opera coming from a record or their piano. Sometimes, you could hear jazz streaming out of their living room. A couple of times, I saw Red Holland, our resident jazz musician, walk out of their door." She chuckled. "I think that I heard Dr. Morgan sing on a couple of occasions. He's quite good."

Joanna returned her mother's smile. Now she knew where her family's love of jazz had come from.

A red-brick, two-story building suddenly attracted her attention. On the building's eyebrow, she could see the words "Abe's Antiques".

She steeled herself. She had no idea what Henry was going to say. Hopefully, something about today would make sense.

As they walked along the building's side, Joanna could see some movement within the shop's large windows. A couple of seconds later, she noticed Henry walking toward the door and unlocking it.

She raised an eyebrow when she spotted his dress shirt and pants. Outside of his NYPD sweat suits, this was the first time that she had seen him dressed rather casually.

Just as they reached the door, Henry opened it. He smiled at them, but his nervousness showed in his eyes. "Tricia, it's good to see you again. Lieutenant. Why don't you come in?"

He held the door open for them. As Joanna passed him, she shot him a look. _How on Earth does he know the name that Mom's family and friends call her? I haven't said anything about it. Calm down, Joanna. It's probably just a deduction from the NYPD's resident Sherlock Holmes._

Satisfied with her explanation, Joanna looked around the retail section. Each table top was covered every type of glassware and porcelain objects that she could imagine. Old-fashioned cabinets, armoires, and a grandfather clock lined the walls. She glanced down and noticed the lightly trafficked floors. Where did Henry and Abe find the money to buy everything for resale? Henry's salary as a medical examiner certainly couldn't cover their living expenses, the store's inventory and rent, _and_ his expensive taste in clothes and liquor.

Henry led them around a desk and through a doorway. Joanna realized that this was the first time that she had been in Henry's home. Lucas, Mike, and Jo had all been in various living quarters before. Now, it was her time to see them.

The delicious smell of lasagna and garlic bread drifted down the stairs and aroused her appetite. Apparently, Abe was the chef of the pair.

Tricia turned to her daughter. "It smells like some things never change."

They reached the top of the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Abe stood at the island near the entryway and hastily chopped some vegetables for a tossed salad. He appeared to be lost in thought.

Joanna stopped and raised her eyebrows. The usually affable man had never seemed upset before. Why was this time different?

Tricia stepped around her daughter and over to the island. "Abe?!"

Abe stopped what he was doing and looked up. "Tricia?!" He warmly smiled and walked around the island. "I haven't seen you since we left in 1957. How have you been?" He placed one hand on the island and his free hand on his hip.

"I've been doing great. Your dad invited Joanna and me over for dinner."

Joanna stared at the other woman in disbelief. She had just addressed Henry as Abe's father.

 _Breathe! There_ _has_ _to be a logical explanation for this._

She needed to look for clues. As her mother and Abe talked, Joanna studied the older Morgan. Nothing about his facial appearance indicated that he was actually younger than Henry.

She glanced down toward the ground…

…and instantly noticed a blue numerical tattoo on Abe's right forearm.

That could _not_ be a coincidence. Neither could Henry's recognition of her mother. Nor his knowledge of her nickname.

Joanna stepped around the pair and walked over to the kitchen table. Was there a possibility that her mother was telling the truth?

Joanna looked at Tricia to calm her nerves. The woman was still talking to Abe.

"Where's Mrs. Morgan?" Tricia's eyes suddenly widened, and her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry for your loss." She inhaled. "When did it happen? I never had the chance to say goodbye."

Joanna heard Henry inhale behind her. She turned to him. Under his nervousness was a sense of sadness.

"Maybe our departure would be an excellent place to start."

"We'll talk some more after Pops finishes his story." A moment after Abe's words, Joanna's mother joined her.

As they walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, Joanna took a deep breath. _Keep an open mind and go from there._

Henry sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table. "Abigail, my wife, and I were walking through Central Park the day before we departed. She left to pick Abe up from school, leaving me alone to enjoy the season's beauties. A PFC Hemecker recognized me from my days as an Army doctor in World War II and mentioned that I hadn't aged in the past 13 years. I became frightened, and, the next morning, we left our apartment and headed for Hawaii."

Abigail. Joanna had heard both Henry and Jo mention her before.

"Why were you afraid of him?" The question left Joanna's mouth as the words came to her.

Henry slouched down in his seat and lowered his eyes to the coffee table—just like he had when he had confessed that he had a stalker. "Do you remember when I said that my stalker believed that I was immortal?"

"Yes. How does this relate to your move?"

Henry inhaled. "I lied about one part. He _knows_ that I'm immortal."

 _What?!_

Joanna could see her mother shift her weight. "Immortal? Like Tithonus—but with eternal youth?"

Leave it to Tricia Reece to find something from her lesson plans and use it in everyday life—even in the craziest moments.

Henry looked up, stared at her for a second, and chuckled as he straightened his posture. "It's more like the death of Aristeas of Proconnesus. Only it happens every time I suffer a fatal injury or illness. And, yes, I do have eternal youth."

Joanna stared at the coffee table separating them. While planning a lesson years ago, her mother had once mentioned the legend of the Greek poet who died in and disappeared from a locked fuller's workshop and who had been spotted—alive and well—shortly afterward.

Immortality. That happened only in myths and legends, right?

The stories must come from somewhere, though. Was there a chance that immortals did indeed walk the Earth? Did they spark numerous tales which had changed with each retelling until they became the myths that her mother taught today's teenagers?

She looked at Henry. Immortality could explain his odd comments. And his knowledge about the world and human nature. And his sixth sense of death. And the craziness that this day had brought.

She needed to say something. His nervous statement before their shop talk echoed in her head.

"We'll talk about your stalker in the morning. Right now…"

Henry stared at her in disbelief for a moment and then nodded.

"How did you become immortal?" The older woman voiced the younger one's next question.

Henry sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. It was the initial reason that I had become a medical examiner, to learn more about my condition." He paused, seemingly in an effort to shield them from another, grimmer, thought. "Somewhere along the way, I had begun to see the value of my work to the NYPD and to the families of the victims as well."

Joanna nodded. Whether he wanted to admit it, Jo had something to do with that.

Henry glanced back down at the coffee table. "When I was younger, I was a staunch abolitionist, and I worked within the abolitionist movement during my spare time. In 1812, I learned that my father, the head of Morgan Shipping—our family business—was engaged in the slave trade to supposedly save the company from bankruptcy. I was furious, and I tried everything in my power to end our involvement in the abominable practice. After my father's death, I boarded _The Empress of Africa_ as a ship's doctor so that I could simultaneously lead the 300 slaves aboard the ship to freedom and destroy the family business."

 _The Empress of Africa_. Rick Rassmusen's murder. Isaac Monroe's discovery of the ship. Henry's break-in.

Joanna found her voice. "What happened?"

"On the night of April 7, 1814, I got as far as getting the key to the slaves' manacles and cells. The captain called me to tend to an ill slave just as I was setting my plan into motion. The crew suspected cholera and wanted to throw him overboard, but the man only had a fever. I refused to let them touch my patient." Henry paused, his nervousness increasing.

He inhaled. "I remember the captain shooting me, a pair of crewmen throwing me into the water, and sinking beneath the waves. Within the next few seconds, I died at the age of 35. You can imagine my surprise when, sometime later, I suddenly found myself alive and surfacing in the North Atlantic to breathe some air."

Finding himself alive in the water. The unusual reports—like people hearing two bodies land near Grand Central Station two and a half years ago and seeing only one body near the building. Henry's frequent arrests near the East River.

Joanna raised a hand to her face and lowered her head onto it. She couldn't believe what she was thinking—or about to say next.

"Whoever you talk to on the other side, tell them to let you come back with some clothes on!" She sighed. "Now I know why you haven't invested in some pajamas."

She gathered the courage to look at Henry and lifted her head. He stared at her in disbelief again.

The rise of Abe's laughter drifted into the room. He appeared in the threshold, wiping his hands on his apron. "Pops, what did you tell her?"

Henry turned to the other man. "All I told her was that I was a somnambulist and that I slept naked."

Abe's laughter turned into a belly-aching guffaw. "That's the lamest excuse that I've heard you use to describe your awakenings. Couldn't you have come up with something a little less creative?"

Henry sighed. "I was pressed for time. Lt. Reece—"

Tricia interrupted. "What happened next?"

The question refocused Henry's attention onto his guests. "A ship found me and brought me back to Europe. About a year after my first death, I returned home to London and to my first wife Nora. Shortly after our reunion, she encouraged me to tell her what had happened." He took a deep breath. "She didn't believe me, so I tried to prove it to her. She stopped me and then left our house, claiming that she wanted to visit a neighbor. When she returned, she came with a wagon from the Charing Cross Asylum. They placed me in a straitjacket and transported me there. She ignored my pleas for her to request my release, and I spent nearly a year in the asylums experiencing what Jo has called torture. I was eventually transported to Southwark Prison, where a Catholic priest helped me escape three months after my arrival.

"Since then, I've been experimented on, and Nora had tried to kill me to expose my immortality to my fellow colleagues and patients when she had found me working at Mercy General Hospital in London fifty years later. Because of my experiences, I have almost always moved after someone sees one of my deaths or notices that I haven't aged, and I rarely reveal my condition to anyone."

Having a secret that big would complicate marriage to another wife. "What about Abigail?"

"We met while working near a liberated concentration camp at the end of World War II. Lieutenant, I assume that your mother had mentioned some of the details of Abe's life."

Joanna nodded.

"Well, shortly after we adopted Abe, I learned that her former beau had abused her. I tracked him down to warn him not to touch her again, and we started fighting. He stabbed me just as Abigail joined us. I died in her arms, and she discovered my secret. Gratefully, she accepted it—and me. For about forty years, we were happy. We were married in 1955, ten years after we had first posed as husband and wife so that we could keep Abe. In the 1980s, people began to notice that she aged and I didn't. She became distraught, and she left us in 1984."

Her mother gasped.

Henry continued. "Fortunately, she still wanted us to be a family and to live in Tarrytown. She wrote a letter mentioning her intentions to me in 1985, but she never mailed it." Henry licked his lips. "One of her patients found her and threatened her life—and mine. She, um, killed herself to protect me." He blinked back tears. "I didn't know about it until a year and a half ago."

Joanna looked at the coffee table. That explained his reaction to the disappearance of Abe's mother. His nervousness suggested that his stalker might have something to do with it. And maybe the case of the missing _pugio_.

Tricia looked at the man. "Why did you leave the medical field?"

He inhaled. "One day in 1956, I was leaving work to take Abe to what remained of the World Series game. I saw a man shot another man in the parking lot of the hospital where Abigail and I worked. I headed over to treat the man. Moments after my arrival, the man shot me as well." His voice cracked at the memory. "Instead of remaining with the man until help arrived, I crawled beside another car and died the moment that I heard the police enter the area. Abigail tried to convince me that I should stay in medicine because I had protected my family, but I couldn't bear the thought of violating my oath as a physician again should the situation repeat itself. I quit my job at the hospital and began to search for alternate lines of work the next day."

That would explain his knowledge of various odd jobs. The lack of protest or complaint coming from the kitchen indicated that he must have told Abe about it before now.

Henry nervously lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment. "I know it sounds insane…"

Reality finally struck her, and she began to fume at the realization that she was considering the possibility that it was true. Insane didn't even begin to cover it.

Joanna placed her teeth around her tongue to maintain her temper. Oblivious to the room's other occupants, she shook her head and began to pace. The story that Henry had just told had to be the single most ridiculous tale that she had ever heard. No one had died and returned to life—repeatedly. In the morning, she would call Bellevue and ask them to come and check his mental status.

She looked back at him, expecting to see the familiar look that psychopathic liars always gave her during interrogations. Instead of the convinced stare, Henry still wore the same nervous expression that he had when he had started his tale. For a moment, she swore that he was making plans to flee the country shortly after she and her mother would leave the shop.

She glanced back into the kitchen to calm her nerves. Abe and Tricia were talking about old times while she helped him set the table. She listened as Abe proudly and joyfully called Henry "Pops". It seemed as though Abe truly believed that Henry was his father.

She inhaled. Henry was an excellent medical examiner and a very valuable member of the team. He had friends at work, and he was obviously close to Abe. She hated the idea of forcing him to give everything up because he had claimed to be immortal. Yet, she couldn't have him putting his life in danger if he felt that losing his life was necessary to protect Jo and Mike.

Her eyes met his, and she felt her stomach churn. She realized that she held the fate of his life in her hands.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** The information about the two legends are from Wikipedia.

I do recognize that anti-Semitism still exists. When I first read about incidents in New York in the 1950s a few years ago, it came as a bit of a shock; I had assumed that it occurred in other parts of the US but not there. Boy, was I wrong! Anyway, I decided to incorporate it into the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I haven't forgotten about this story! I have been in the middle of another story, and I just haven't posted this chapter yet. I hope that you will enjoy this final chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Joanna walked over to the sofa and lowered herself on it. It seemed as though the entire world had gone crazy in believing that immortality existed.

Everyone but Jo. Jo didn't believe in any of this nonsense. Her sensibility was one reason that she had hoped that the young detective would succeed her if she was promoted to precinct commander or if she needed to leave the force.

Joanna's mind went back to earlier in the day. Oddly, Jo acted like she was expecting something bad to happen at dinner tonight. For as long as Joanna knew the other woman, Jo went with her instincts. If she had suspected that there was something wrong with Henry's story, she would have acted long before now.

She reviewed everything that she had known about Henry and what he had just told her. She inhaled. A person couldn't know everything that he knew and experience everything that he had unless….

It shouldn't be possible, but it was. In fact, it explained every mystery that was Henry Morgan.

She watched as the two old friends caught up on the past 60 years before turning back to Henry. She couldn't believe that he was a father. A widower. A former Army doctor. A former doctor. Someone who might have seen the city that she loved and had vowed to serve and to protect grow up to see the metropolis of today. Someone whose life encompassed over 200 years of history.

He sat waiting for her response. She took a deep breath and looked at him.

"You've told Jo about this?" It was the only way outside of witnessing one of his deaths that Jo could believe it.

He nervously nodded. "I told her shortly after we closed the investigation into Blair Dryden's and Xavier deSoto's murders."

Joanna glanced down in thought. Henry and Jo's relationship was strained for three months after that case. She had assumed Henry was trying to regain Jo's trust until Henry had mentioned that—.

Her eyes widened. Jo didn't have difficulty accepting his immortality then. Based on their conversations, she was realizing the implications of having an immortal partner, and she wasn't sure what to do about it.

He laid his hands on his lap. "The exact circumstances involve my stalker." He stood up, removed a picture from the mantle, and joined her on the sofa. "She returned my pocket watch and this photograph." He held it out to her. "This is Abigail and Abe when he was an infant."

Joanna took the frame. They seemed quite happy in the black-and-white photograph.

She looked back and forth at Abe's baby picture and the two seniors in the kitchen. It was hard to believe that Henry knew her mother when she was a child.

She handed him the frame. "I'm still wrapping my mind around all this. It sounds incredible…"

Suddenly, his odd reaction to the four cases made perfect sense. Due to his condition, for lack of a better word, he felt as though he couldn't trust her, Jo, and Mike to help him. He couldn't give his testimony, identify his stalker, or even tell them his suspicions about Abigail's death since everything in his life sounded so incredible. So, he took the law into his own hands because he felt that it was the only way to obtain justice without revealing his immortality.

She studied the nervous medical examiner. If the roles were reversed, she might have done the same thing.

 _I guess I do believe that this is real_. She inhaled. "I have so many questions to ask you." She briefly looked at her mother. "Some can wait until tomorrow." She didn't want to know about his deaths right now.

"Don't get Pops started on his deaths or his antiques downstairs." Abe called out to them. "You'll be here all night."

 _That's why they have so much inventory. They're what Henry's collected over the years_. She wouldn't be surprised if he gave her the world's longest art and history lesson.

Speaking of lessons… She leaned back on the sofa. "How do you know about the legends?"

He widened his eyes in surprise and then chuckled. "They were a part of my education. When I was a boy, I was taught grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, history, music, and astronomy. The grammar component consisted of studies in Greek and Latin so we could read civilization's classics without the need for an English translation. My knowledge of the rest came later through either my readings or a return to a university setting so I could update my knowledge of medicine."

That sounded more advanced than what she was taught. "They certainly don't teach that anymore."

Henry chuckled. "You could imagine my surprise when Abe had brought home his first homework assignment. It was in that moment that I decided that I would teach him everything that I knew in order for him to have a more well-rounded education."

"He was a real bear then." Abe's voice contained a chuckle.

"Abraham!" Henry growled.

She stifled her laugh. They sounded exactly like her and Paul when they ribbed each other.

Henry glanced down again. "I had wanted to tell you about myself after I told Jo." He tilted his head to one side. "Lucas found out about it by guessing the truth before I could say anything to you, and I've been dealing with the consequences ever since."

She buried her head in one hand. If there was one person whose ideas were crazier than Henry's, it was Lucas.

"My sentiments exactly."

She looked up at the point of agreement.

He continued with a disgruntled look. "There have been times in which he has really tried my patience." He then unexpectedly smiled. "He, however, has proven to be quite the friend and confidante."

She raised her eyebrows.

"He is analyzing everything that I have told him about my early life to see if he could find the cause of my immortality. Some of his theories are very far-fetched, but others are much more intriguing. Recently, he and Abe have been looking at my family tree to see if I have an immortal ancestor without realizing it. I personally doubt that they will find anything, but they insist on exploring that possibility." He chuckled. "At the same time, he's interested in my stories, and, surprisingly, his company isn't bad."

Tricia's laugh and "do you remember" drifted into the room. Joanna shook her head in amazement at the situation.

He turned his attention to her and chortled. "I can't believe that I didn't recognize your resemblance to Tricia. I guess that I was so caught up in trying to preserve my secret that I haven't noticed it until tonight."

"I would have done the same thing." Besides, her mother was so young when they had left the apartment. He probably wouldn't have noticed how much she looked like her mother even if he had tried.

She glanced back into the kitchen before turning to the immortal doctor. "What was my mother like when she was younger?"

* * *

Joanna smiled as she set her glass down and listened to the story that her mother, Abe, and Henry were telling. Almost everything was exactly like her mother had said life with the Morgans as neighbors was like. Abigail wasn't there, but Joanna could still feel her presence by the way the men and Tricia talked about her and in the meal that Abe had prepared from a family recipe. Later, she would get a glimpse of the musical side as Abe had promised to play a little bit of jazz on a piano that they stored in an another room.

She glanced down at the food and sighed. What she wouldn't give to have more moments like this. Unfortunately, departmental policy prevented her from fraternizing with everyone who worked under her, even with the people whom the NYPD consulted with. Tomorrow morning, she must act like this had never happened.

She thought back over the past two and a half years. Policy hadn't stopped her from telling Jo, Mike, Lucas, and Henry a little bit about her life or from sharing her opinion about theirs. Maybe she could pull Henry aside whenever she wanted to hear a story about the past.

Tricia's laugh broke through her thoughts. "Say, whatever happened to Fawn Mahoney and Lyle Ames? They were in our class."

Abe swallowed his bite. "They got married and had a couple of kids. Lyle died about two years ago, and I reunited with Fawn at his funeral." He shot Henry a look warning his father about embarrassing him. "Fawn and I have been talking to each other ever since."

Joanna raised her eyebrows and stared at a bewildered Henry. That was what he meant by his comment that he was Abe's wingman at a funeral.

A phone rang, and the older Reece reached into her pocket. "Excuse me." She jumped up and walked into the living room. "Hey, baby. How are you doing?"

Joanna looked at the curious men. "My step-father. He's finishing a project in Atlanta before coming here for the holidays."

Henry leaned forward and smiled. "You took his surname out of your love for him."

She stared at her precinct's ME. On the one hand, his simple statement perfectly summarized her and Paul's relationship. On the other hand, she swore that Henry could be the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes.

To answer him, she nodded.

She listened as her mother explained that they were at the home of one of their daughter's friends. She now knew why the older woman had said that Henry was more skittish than she remembered. The years that he, Abigail, and Abe had spent in their apartment at 69th and 2nd were probably the only period of time in which he had felt relatively normal. Once his secret was out, he lived in constant fear of exposure again.

Yet, maybe he was starting to feel that sense of normalcy once again. When she had first transferred to the 11th Precinct, he was a very private person. At first, Jo was the only person to spend any length of time in the shop, but, soon, Lucas was coming here as well. Now, with dinner tonight…

"Paul says hi." Tricia pocketed her cell phone and took her seat. "He's on the first flight out tomorrow morning. He also told me that he got the visas to take me to Paris over spring break." She rubbed her hands over her face. "I need to find a guide book. There are so many places to see in just a week."

Joanna looked at her mother. "Ask Henry. He's been there before." She knew of one instance, but she hoped that he had been there prior to that time.

Henry shot a pointed look at an interested Abe. "I can assure you that _nothing_ happened when Lt. Reece sent Jo and me there for a case."

Henry's defensive posture and tone and the speed in which he had mentioned the case indicated that, in spite of his denial, something _had_ happened which had brought him and Jo closer together. It was a matter of time before they would mention it in front of her. In the meantime, she could start placing her bets on when they would start dating.

Joanna smugly smiled as she took another sip of wine. Like she always said, she knew _everything_ that happened in her precinct.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Two notes here: One, Mike doesn't know Henry's secret yet, and, yes, Henry tells Lt. Reece that during their dinner conversation.

Second, I have several stories about Henry and Jo's first trip to Paris in my head. The case that Henry's talking about in _this_ story is a different set of events from "A Desired Regimen". (That story's sequel is posted at the same time as this one!) Still, like Lt. Reece suspects, there's more to the story than what Henry's letting on.


End file.
